Traning a Rebel
by FeverousFanFiction
Summary: Prussia trains a young colony to fight the British Empire. *Contains spanking of a child/teenager
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, this is a rather interesting one for me to write. This was in the works before the request I had received, at least mentally it was. This will be a historical fiction with actual history lessons thrown in here. Creative license will be taken as well though. End Notes will be notes about the actual history.**

Training a Rebel

Chapter 1

 _ **September 26th, 1777**_

More than just a little bored, Alfred F. Kirkland walked around the dock in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Currently he was trying his best to keep still entertained and out of trouble, after being scolded quite a bit over the last few days and even smacked a handful of times.

He had been told by General Washington that it had to be him that greeted the nation of Prussia when he arrived, seeing as they were of a similar kind. This had excited the child greatly at first, since he had only meet a handful of other nations before and it felt like he was becoming a country in his own right by doing so.

However, after the sixth day straight of hanging around the harbor to welcome a nation he barely remembered meeting with England once and his Barron it didn't feel worth it. If he remembered correct, Prussia was an aristocratic man who had brown hair, a strange curl kind of like Canada's and glasses. Other than his appearance he remembered nothing good about the man, just that he liked to find fault in everything about America.

The brown dog he found a few days ago, that he named James, barked happily as it ran first to him and then away while wagging its tail. Alfred smiled and chased it, a game to two had been playing off and on for the last few days. The mutt was also one of the big reasons he had found trouble over the last few days.

Meanwhile, Gilbert Beilschmidt looked out at the land as his ship was tied to the dock. Although he didn't particularly like England's colonies all that much, seeing land once again was welcomed. The journey from France had not been fun, nor was any type of sea travel as far as he was concerned. He loved a good fight though, such as this one was looking like it would be. Plus, at this point every nation wanted to stick to England in any way possible that wouldn't place themselves at risk.

Though it had been a little over a decade since he had last visited the colonies and even longer since he had to have meet the personification of these middle colonies, Prussia was confident he remembered what the obnoxious brat looked like. The child had wide, violet, scared looking eyes and light blond hair with one large curl. The kid acted a bit strangely too, always caring around a real polar bear.

Prussia stepped off the ship and adjusted his country's red military uniform proudly. Glancing around the docks he couldn't say that he saw anyone around that matched the description of the kid, although, with so many people around it was hard to say. Admittedly, the people of the colonies had a bit of Prussia's respect for taming the wild around them and as colonies united declaring a War with the powerful British Empire. Although, that may be because as of late he had been dealing with France and other wimpy nations.

While the sun was in his eye for a brief moment, a boy of about twelve or thirteen ran right into him, knocking backwards and onto his butt while his map and letters took a tumble of their own. The man was not happy at all as he got back to his feet, fixing the lad with a glare.

"Oh, I'm sorry mister!" The child exclaimed, halting his play and coming back to help Gilbert to pick up his things.

Feeling as though he was owed the aid, Gilbert did not bother to lift a finger as he watch the child retrieve his things. Noting the blond hair, with a small clump defying gravity itself in remaining straight up, and big light blue eyes, Prussia began to work out that this was the child he had been searching for in the first place. Now he had expected the lad to be much younger, as only fifteen years ago when he last saw him, the child appeared to be about seven or so then. War was starting to age him already.

Prussia took back his items from the lad, "Are you Alfred Kirland?"

The child paled noticeably as he squeaked out, "Who wants to know?" After Alfred and his people had declared war on Great Britain a year ago, he had learned quickly to be careful around men he didn't know in red uniforms. Not only that, but this man had scary red eyes.

Gilbert smirked at the clear fear in the child's blue eyes and extended his hand in welcoming, "Gilbert Beilschmidt."

Alfred took a step back, eyes wide in confusion and distrust. It sounded like a Germanic name, and he was waiting at the docks for some Prussians, but he was sure that wasn't the Baron's name. James by this point had returned to the lad's side and understanding the emotions of his friend was growling slightly at the man.

The soldier noted how comically both the mutt and the child looked so very similar with large confused looks on their faces. After a brief pause, where in which Gilbert realized the child was not going to get it on his own, he continued in a proud voice with "Also known as the personification of the Awesome Kingdom of Prussia."

"Ohhh," the child said, a slight blush coming to his cheeks as he shook the man's hand. The beast stopped growling, watching this exchange.

Prussia was a tad annoyed at the boy's reaction, it was as if he was not impressed by being in the presence of pure awesomeness. "Is this land yours?"

"Uh," Alfred stuttered and nodded slowly. "Yes, sir."

Gilbert's eyes narrowed at the hesitation in his tone, which was something that would be needed to be trained out of him. "Then you know where I can get some gut food and gut beer."

"Oh, right!" The child said with a jump, "Um, where's the Barron? George said I should pay for a meal and an inn for tonight."

"He's busy with preparations, he will be needing to see more before he is convinced." The nation said waving his hand. "For now do not concern yourself with the Barron, I'm your only problem."

"Yes, sir." The lad squeaked out, unsure what to make of this stranger. "There's a couple places over here, I'm not sure the best place for beer though." He mumbled, "But I know they sell alcohol for you."

"Nearest place will do then," Prussia grumbled, more hungry than anything.

Despite the density of the crowd on the decks, Prussia had no issue following the jabbering child and annoying mutt to the tavern. His rather menacing presence made people stay out of his way, which was just the way that he liked it.

Alfred pushed the door open, "I've been coming here the last few days, their food is better than Arthur's and the people are really nice." James padded on right after the two, laying down under the table at the boy's feet, clearly still not trusting the man.

To this exciting information, Prussia only grunted. He cared little about everything the child was chattering about. That was just something else that would stop soon enough, likely as soon as training began. Alfred would learn quickly to fear his new commander, but for now they both could relax.

A woman, obviously the owner's wife, spoke to them both about food and beer and gave Alfred a stern look about the dog hiding under the table. Prussia casually ordered for them both, not wishing to see how Alfred would drag it out. "Ever have a beer before, Junge?" Prussia asked, after the lady produced two beers walked away.

"Er, no sir." Alfred said sheepishly shrugging and looking at the dark liquid. "Arthur would never let me go near his alcohol…" He could remember doing so a decade or so ago and getting his arse set on fire from Arthur's slipper when it was found out. It was obvious that the elder meant business when it came to his alcohol.

"Learning to hold alcohol is a step toward becoming a man," Gilbert said, chugging down half of the mug in one swing, even though the taste was unsatisfactory. "When men talk about business it is usually over an open bottle." He watch the child's face, knowing that the youngster would take the bait.

"But…" the lad mumbled, still very unsure and still very much under Arthur's thumb despite the long distance. He wondered just how his big brother would feel about this. Likely, he would be very upset with him, and even if they were not at ware he would receive a very through spanking. But, Arthur was not there, and he was angry anyways for Alfred following the colonist towards rebellion.

Feeling rather brave and grown up, Alfred picked up the mug and attempted to chug it like he had just witnessed Prussia doing. The burn of the beverage had him coking and coughing a moment later though. With tears in his eyes he looked up the man.

Gilbert smirked, the surprised looked on the child's face was certainly priceless. He wondered if Ludwig would have the same response or take it like a man. "A bit strong for you, eh?"

Quickly Alfred shook his head, "No. Just wasn't…"

"Expecting it?" Prussia chuckled. "Kessess~"

Alfred turned red in the face, unable to look at the man. Quietly he tried to take another drink from it. This time grimacing he managed to take it.

"Don't worry too much about it," Gilbert responded, liking the spunk he was seeing. "You'll grow to like it eventually." He smiled to himself imagining the face on the Brit if he found out that Prussia was making a drinker out of Alfred.

"You said I'd be a man then," Alfred said. "Right?"

Perhaps it was the alcohol settling in his stomach or his relief at being off that verdammt ship finally that had placed him in a decent mood. "You're nowhere near being a man, kid." He said laughing even more. "You'll be man when the war is over, if you win."

On September 26th, 1777 Baron Von Steuben arrived in America (Portsmouth, New Hamspire), over a year after the colonist had declared war on the British.


	2. Chapter 2

**Mellow, followers. I'm still having a lot of fun working with these two together. When I'll add more to this, idk. But, like everything else I post there is an ending in mind and I will chip away to getting there. If I am posting anything during a given week check on Thursdays.**

 **Thanks for the reviews:**

 **Enya, DefiantDandelion, fhedeactived, and the guests.**

Chapter 2

 _ **September 27th, 1777**_

Prussia had never been the type of nation that kept still, ever. Likely this was one of the many reasons woman would not tolerate his presence for too long.

After a one night stay at the inn, he had ordered Alfred to take him to where the training would be to take place. The child dared to back talk him though, something that got on the man's nerves, though he supposed there was a purpose. It seemed that it would take longer than he had thought to reach the grounds and that Heir Washington preferred if they were to wait until Hier Steuben was convinced that this trip was for a purpose.

Prussia was impatient though. This wimp of a colony needed to be taught a number of lessons before he even thought about stepping foot on the battle field. For poor Alfred, his education began at sunrise the next day.

While a drunkard, Prussia found that the Germanic blood and strict teachings from his father had embedded in him a likeness for early mornings. His warrior thirst is what kept him going late into the night, always ready to pounce.

"The first and most important lesson for you to learn if you are going to win this little rebellion is that Arthur is not around to coddle you anymore." The man stated, coldly staring the young colony down. "This is your land and your people and if you do not fight for it, then you will not keep it."

"Yes sir," The teen said softly, looking a bit uneasy. This was all so new to him. Outside of a few arguments with Arthur he had never been spoken to so harshly. Especially when he had yet to do anything wrong.

Alfred was not a morning person either, he stifled a yawn. For the last several years he had grown accustom to rising around noon. Only when he aided on a farm did he bother to greet the morning light, even that had been at least a decade ago.

"I cannot hear a pathetic voice like that," The nation growled out at him, sneering at the pathetic way the lad was dress. Old hand-me-down garbs suitable only for milking cows. By Gott, he hated that this military had yet to settle on proper uniforms. One ought to dress to strike fear into the hearts of your enemy. These colonies were more savage than he had thought they would be after being under English rule, in particular the child in front to f him. "If you speak, you speak with pride. Like a man."

He would surely have this one whipped into shape by the end of the week on at the most basic of materials. Britain certainly was not planning of ever making a man out of this one. All he had wanted was a sweet little submissive colony.

"Yes, sir." Alfred pipped up a bit louder this time.

It was still not good enough for the man, he could hear the hesitation in the youngsters' voice. "Perhaps I should allow that damn hound eat your lunch if you don't get louder."

"No! Please Mr. Prussia!" The child was sure to squeal much louder at that declaration. He was nearly always hungry as it was, Arthur had claimed it be from all the growth spurts he was having.

Prussia held out a gloved hand with a glare in his ruby eyes, "Lose the whine. You will never get your way by being a little bitch."

Red colored the young one's cheeks furiously, "Yes, sir!"

Gilbert almost smiled, yes he could be trained as easy as any animal. "Better, keep it up or the mutt will feast."

It really won't be so hard to teach the spoiled brat after all. A few days of his harshest training and the lad would be more than happy to jump to every order. That would be the first step in making him his own nation. A good leader could take orders just as easily as he can make them.

Alfred nodded, licking his lips nervously. While the man had yet to be truly terrible, this was no fun either.

"Give me fifty push-ups," Gilbert glanced over the boy's thin arms, labor was need to build those up well.

The child's eyes widened a little, curiosity on the edges. "Mr. Prussia, sir?"

Of course, this colony did not even know the most basic of exercises. Gilbert wanted to shove his boot up someone's arse for not even teaching this young colony that. It was always annoying to work with a blank slate. Roderick always claimed that was because he was lazy. Damn that arrogant aristocrat.

Gilbert dropped to the ground and executed several pushups of his own, "It'll build your strength to complete these. By the end of the week I expect you to be able to complete a number of these without question or problem."

The boy's eyes followed him carefully each time he went down and back up. He could see the wheels turning behind those blue windows. Gut.

"Understood?" The nation asked, standing once more, leering over the youngster as a reminder who exactly was in charge.

Alfred shrank under his gaze, "Yes sir."

"Well then, get to it." The man barked out loudly. His hand drifted to the crop attached to his belt. It had always been his weapon of choice, even in kindheit. His bruther had never been a fan of such, but perhaps that was because he had been on the hard end of it enough times.

Alfred knelt at first, placing either hand further than shoulder length as he struggled to position himself. His tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth as he concentrated.

"Nien," He bought his boot over and lightly knocked the child's arms. "Your arms should be farther apart."

The colony cried out as the nudges had cause him to loose balance. He looked to his commander only to be greeted by a cold stare. Rubbing his right arm, on which he had fallen, for just a moment and he tried again.

Gilbert circled the boy, much like a wolf. With a snap of his wrist, the crop fell on the lad's bottom, squarely on the right cheek. "Butt down."

Alfred found his strength giving out, he dropped to his knees and a soft cry of pain. He had not been expecting that. Reaching to sooth the sore spot the child glared up at those demon eyes, "That's not fair."

Both amused and annoyed, the commander leaned forward a bit. "If you want fairness, go back to the British Empire with your tail between your legs."

"No," Alfred snapped back, feeling a bit of anger boil up inside. If he went back, Arthur would never let him forget what had happened. He'd call Alfred a child throwing a tantrum. He would never be seen as the other man's equal. The lad balled his hands up into fists.

"Then, either accept my awesome help or die on the battle field." Gilbert laid the facts out coldly. Even if France was to help this colony to spite Britain, he would hardly be fighting any battles himself. The boy would have to get his hands dirty.

Alfred let out a huff, his lips puckered into a pout. He had understood that war would be tough, he had seen the scars that England carried. The ones the man now hide under layers of fine clothing.

A slap from the crop landed on Alfred's left shoulder, starling him. He looked up at his commander.

"Did you forget your orders?" The Prussian's lip curled in disgust at the poor attitude.

"No, sir." Alfred mumbled, biting down on his hatred. He hated that Gilbert was being so harsh. He hated that he couldn't do anything right. And most of all he hated that this war was his only way of earning respect. "I just need a minute."

A twin smack landed on his other shoulder. "In battle you will not have the time, whelp."

"Argh," The boy mumbled, moving into the position again. This time correcting his arms before the militant had a chance to strike.

"Count them, you do not move until you do fifty." Gilbert stated, watching carefully. He had gotten the lad annoyed. Gut. Anger was good fuel.

By the end of five, the boy fell forward again. His arms could not take his weight yet. With a mouthful of dirt and grass he glared.

Gilbert found this more amusing, he wondered how long until the child snapped at him. Even the weak didn't stay silent forever.

Time ticked on as the nation had him run through more drills. Slaps from the crop were given freely to correct form or increase speed. Each drill was asking for more. Pushing for more. The exhaustion on Alfred's face was clear.

"Why am I doing all of this?" Alfred growled finally, in the middle of marching he had tripped over a log. At least it sounded like he wanted to growl, the pout matched the whining tone though.

The smack on his arm did not deter Alfred at all, he only grunted in pain. "No, tell me why!"

"Because you are weak," Gilbert smacked him again, "Now do it again."

"No!" Alfred cried. "We've been at this all day and I don't even get why!"

"On your feet!" Gilbert snapped, removing his belt. He knew it would only be a matter of time before he would have to teach this lad physically. The nation had been on the receiving side enough times as a kinder to understand the effectiveness on those that are stubborn.

The nation watched as the younger lost color in his face. He rose up carefully, eyes locked on Gilbert's figure. He would not meet the stern red eyes though. If Gilbert had not been so bothered by the outburst, he would have thought of Alfred as cute. Like a little frightened rabbit.

He grabbed the child by the arm and forced him against a tree. Alfred struggled again the nation, whimpering and blathering about how he was sorry. Gilbert frankly did not care.

"You will learn to obey first," Prussia said, snapping the leather against the child's rump harshly.

Alfred let out the most exaggerated cry for a lad taking his due punishment the Gilbert had ever heard. Hunted animals squalled less.

The damn dog, who had been resting under a bush just moments ago advanced towards them both, growling fiercely. There was little doubt that he would protect his young master with more than just vocally.

"Take care verdammt mutt before I shoot him!" Prussia shouted letting go of the lad, drawing his pistol and aiming right for the dog's head.

"No!" Alfred cried, wrapping his arms around James and shielding the beast with his body. "He thinks you're going to hurt me."

"I am if you don't obey orders!" Gilbert roared, not moving his weapon an inch. He knew better than to aim at the young colony. A nation could survive if another nation were to shoot. But, a colony, especially one as weak as America was at the moment, would die painfully.

"I'll tie him up, I promise." The boy whined out, tears running down his face. "Please don't shoot him. He doesn't know."

"One chance, that is all you're getting." The man growled, tucking his gun away once more. "You will train that mongrel."

Alfred's head bobbed, almost comically so. "I will. I promise, Mr. Prussia. I promise."

Gilbert glared down at him, not wanting to seem weak for even an instant. "Go now."

The child knew not of his soft spot for animals of all sizes, there was little wonder as to how Ludwig had talked him into so many pets over the years. But much like the little German, Alfred would need to learn to care for the beast properly. The training would also do wonders in molding the colony into a leader of his people.

Sobbing and rubbing at his eyes, the youth pulled at the mutt until it moved. There was some twine in the house he could use.

The man chuckled for a moment now that the child was out of earshot, thinking of how ballsy the teen really was. He stood there without fear for his own safety with a gun pointed at him. Prussia knew then that this would be the real strength of America, his will to fight for others. If he showed this same tenacity in the face of battle, he would win with ease.

Until then though, he had plenty to learn.

Alfred secured his new pet to a tree, "Stay James, please."

The dog whined softly, pawing at his young master. It was as if he knew what was waiting the lad.

"Are you ready now?" Gilbert snapped, not at all happy about the delay. Hours in the day were ticking away and only so many days could be spent teaching.

"Yes, sir." Alfred muttered, his head bowed submissively.

Oh how Prussia reviled in the feeling of power it gave him. One moment this kinder was kicking a fit, the next he was so meek. This must be how Britain felt with all of those little colonies begging to serve him.

It was enjoy able enough to take a grown man and break him down. But another nation, even if it was still a child was so much more delicious. Just being called sir in such a way stroked Gilbert's ego immensely.

This was all the more reason to build the young one up. No matter what, in the future he would still feel the need to answer Prussia's demands. If they were to turn sexual when the colony was old enough to truly please, perhaps in another three hundred years. Wait no, this one grew quite fast, make that a hundred. Well, it would unlikely that Alfred would resists his former commander. Oh how that would feel then.

If Prussia was lucky enough, he could make a man out of this wide eye innocent in all regards in time. That stupid Brit would never be able to command America as he could. That was the problem with keeping them submissive.

"Trousers down, hands on the tree," Prussia commanded, pointing to the thick tree only a few feet away from the lad.

Alfred glanced at the leather belt in the hands of the man. His fingers slipped a number of times as nerves got the best of him. Arthur had never been this formal or this angry sounding when he punished. Soon they were loosened enough to satisfy the man.

With each crack of the belt against his bottom, Alfred let out a cry.

"I see now that you do have a voice," The commander commented, a touch amused at how the child was squealing. Unlike when he punished his younger brother, Gilbert felt no guilt.

With a whimper the boy responded, wanting desperately to fight back. The striking fear the man had place in him quelled his rage.

Gilbert brought his arm back and whipped it forward with an adequate bit of force. He certainly could do much worse, however given that his child seemed unaccustomed to true pain it seemed needless.

"Agh!" Alfred cried out as the belt licked at his thighs.

He had been spanked by Arthur many of times, both with the elder's firm hand and a well-worn slipper. This was much harsher than that though.

Gilbert would be lying if he said he didn't derived at least some pleasure out of lashing the child's rump until it was a dark red shade. At least this time he was gentle enough not to cause the skin to welt much. That would be for later when the boy crosses a bigger line. This was a simple lesson of who was in charge.

The man watched as Alfred began to lose his hold on the tree. He could tell this at least was not out of willful disobedience. Deciding the sniffling whelp had enough, Gilbert replaced his belt.

"Get yourself together," Gilbert snarled at the young colony. He would not tolerate weakness even after a sound whipping. It was the only way to build this child up quick enough for the war. "

Clearly America was more use to lighter punishments. If it hadn't been for the clear fear the boy had shown, the man would've assumed that England never raised a hand against the youth. Arthur had to have been softer than how he presented himself to the other nations.

Gilbert decided to give the runt another thirty seconds to get over himself. Men in battle often have to carry on with bullets in their guts or after a sword had been shoved through them for survival. The pain of a simple whipping should not be enough to stop him.

With a hiccup, the child looked up at him with tearful blue eyes. One could tell he was at the very least attempting at a brave face.

"Are you ready to train?" Gilbert asked calmly, resting his hand on this sword. While he was being gentler now, he did not want to lose the commanding aura he held.

"Yes." Alfred chocked out, his tone that of a sorely beaten child. It was obvious enough he craved comfort.

Gilbert looked at him with hard eyes. Surely the boy knew that he would offer no comfort. If he wanted respect, Alfred would have to show he was worth the older nation's respect.

Alfred paused for a moment, gathering a lungful of air. He stood with his shoulders squared, "Yes, sir!"

"Gut," Gilbert nodded with approval. Perhaps that was enough education for the day. "Gather some wood for an evening fire. We're done for the day."

This soft bit of mercy was enough to bring a smile to the teen's lips. He could tell his commander was rewarding him for the good behavior. Though weary enough, and in desperate need to lick his wounded pride, the boy rejoined with a loud, "Yes, sir."

Baron Von Steuben was extravagantly entertained for several months in Boston before an agreement was made regarding pay for the training of the colonial men.


End file.
